I clutched at the thing that pressed upon my breast, and it felt hard and bony like a horse's hoof--and it was a horse.

By the faint moonlight I saw it was the wild black 'familiar' that belongs to the snake-marked witch, Dulcibel Burton.

But the hand that grasped my throat was the strong hand of a man.

I caught a sight of his face.

I knew it well.